How I Spent my Staycation (or, Babymoons are for Suckers)

Short answer: doing laundry. (Well, not really. I mean I did do several loads, and somehow our room is still a disaster as I do the clothes transition from cute normal clothes to maternity wear. Ick.)

Welcome to Memorial Day Weekend 2010 - our Babymoon/Staycation. I think babymoons must only be the rage for first time preggers...we were lucky to get to do this in Hawaii the first time around. We had some frequent flier miles to cash in on, and a free week of airport parking, and found a nice yet inexpensive place to stay. Between that and the free rental car upgrade to a topless Jeep, it turned out to be a fairly affordable trip. And it really was, as they all warned, our last real vacation together.

And whoever made up the term "staycation" for people like me who can't afford to take real vacations feel better is of course someone who probably works for a travel section of a newspaper or a travel magazine, so jetsetting to exotic and exciting places is probably one of the perks of their job. They've probably never had to take a staycation. Here's the thing - I like the idea in theory. Avoid the hassles of travel! Save money! Visit places in your hometown that you don't otherwise go! Spend quality time at home!

But in practice I'm not sure I'm the ideal candidate, except for the fact that I don't actually have the money to take a real vacation. I don't find travel to be such a terrible hassle, with proper planning and patience (something I do very well, even though I lack both when it comes to getting out the door in the morning)...I'm pretty go-with-the-flow. We DO get out in LA, and have always made an effort to experience cultural attractions and go to the beach as often as we can. But since we don't really travel for work, or go anywhere else, we don't have that yearning to be home feeling either. In fact, I just spent the last 5 months working from home, so I'm pretty tapped out on how much time I can spend in our little space. And when you add it up, between museum admissions, shops we want to check out, restaurants we want to eat at, parking, driving etc. it's not exactly a free weekend either.

Plus, when I'm at home I'm actually more stressed out. Even if I have nothing to do, and I don't remember when the last time that was, I find myself fixated on what needs to be cleaned, the Closet of Shame that needs to be organized, the piles of crap that need to be put away (i.e. the garbage bag of maternity clothes), what we're cooking for dinner, what ingredients we're missing to make said dinner, not to mention the inevitable distractions of the computer and other time-sucking devices.

A vacation to me is sitting on a beach or by the pool, reading books, sipping fruity drinks, not having to be anywhere or feel the pressure to do anything, maybe taking a walk or a hike, going to bed early, and wearing flip flops 24/7. And if I were to travel somewhere I've never been abroad, I would be on my feet all day, exploring, eating and photographing. But staying home? I need more convincing.

In any case, I was convinced by my parents' offer to take Ivy to their house for the long weekend. We met half way to transfer the child, and did the same 2 days later. Surprisingly, despite my hesitations and misgivings about the whole thing, not to mention missing Ivy like crazy, we had a lovely time. After all, we didn't have much of a choice, since my parents pretty much insisted on whisking Ivy off for her own weekend adventure. The kid got to a baseball game, the zoo, Little Italy for dinner, and play with all the toys at Nana and Papa's house. Crazy times.

Meanwhile, we saw movies (I say "movies" not because we saw more than one, but because we each saw a different one...a split up double date with Tamar and Noam.) We spent Sunday at the beach, where I got caught up on all of my backlogged New Yorkers and got a bit of a belly tan. We went out for a lovely dinner in Malibu, courtesy of Mike's parents as a belated Mother's Day gift. On Monday we ran some errands went to not one but TWO parties. And don't forget about all that laundry! Wow, are we on fire or what?

(We also came home with Ivy who promptly decided to sit on the potty AND poop. But we'll save that for a special "potty training" post or something of the like.)

Moral of the story - I'd rather be gallivanting in the tropics somewhere, but not having to get out of bed at 6:45am to the demanding cries of a toddler is really nice too. Especially when you get to eat breakfast in bed for 2 mornings in a row and you don't end up with crushed cornflakes in the sheets.